


Wet Dreams

by ohgodsabove



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Anal Sex, Consentacles, F/M, Let me know if I need to add more tags, Mildly Dubious Consent, Other, PWP, Tentacle Monsters, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles, Under-negotiated Kink, like very mild, sex with a god, under-negotiated sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-28 00:17:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16230257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohgodsabove/pseuds/ohgodsabove
Summary: It starts with the dreams.Fjord's Patron is always with him, in the back of his mind, in his dreams. Lately, however, the dreams have been more...intimate.





	Wet Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Jas and the Widowmauk discord for spawning and encouraging this filth.
> 
> This is only gently edited, let me know if there are any glaring errors

It starts with the dreams. 

All of the Nein know that Fjord has odd dreams from time to time, but lately they have been getting...worse. Fjord wakes up most days in the grey, early hours of the morning, a fine sheen of sweat covering his body. Even when he crawls out of his bedroll to start the day, the dreams cling to him. 

He wakes up from another particularly vivid dream of his patron to Jester shaking him awake for his watch. 

“Are you ok Fjord?” Jester asks, peering down at him. “You looked like you were having a bad dreaam, and you’re all sweaty,” she said, wrinkling her nose gently.

“I’m fine, Jester” Fjord groans softly, going to sit with Caleb by the fire. Caleb nods at him once before returning to his book. Truthfully, Fjord is grateful for the quiet. 

The tendrils of the dream are still in his mind, even though the details are fading as he gazes into the fire. This sense of being held, caressed, lingers, and it's probably just his imagination and the early hour, but he could swear that he can still feel the light touches across his skin. It should feel strange, it does feel strange, but Fjord finds he has to stop himself pushing into the phantom touch, trying to get more sensation.  
He tries to banish the feeling and stares into the fire, but he can still feel something tracing along his neck even as he finishes his watch and the rest of the Nien get up to start their day.

That night, after a bloody but relatively easy day, they find an inn to stay at, and everyone's spirits are high. Fjord watches his friends drink, sitting in a corner booth of the dim common room. Even after the fight, he feels restless. There is an emptiness, an ache not unlike the hunger that compels him to swallow down a blade, but for something else he can't quite place. 

He feels another phantom touch trail along his jaw and down his chest and thinks again of the dream, of being held down, enveloped, adored. He keeps shifting his thighs together, feeling hot and achy, like the first stages of a fever. He’s been half hard for most of the evening, and neither the drink or the busy atmosphere is enough to distract him.

Fjord is startled back to the present as Molly plunks down next to him, an easy grin on his sharp features. 

“Fjord my friend,” he says “how are you this evening?”

“I'm doing just fine Molly” the lie falls easily from his lips. “What about yourself?” 

“I am enjoying the hospitality of the locals,” Molly says.

There's a slight flush to his cheeks as he gestures to a pretty half-elf and her friend, who appear to be waiting for Molly at the bar, the woman's hand already twined in the strands of her companion’s long dark hair.

“You're welcome to join if you like,” Molly says with a companionable leer. “Otherwise I just wanted to let you know I won't be coming back to the room tonight”.

Fjord considered it, his eyes lingering on Molly’s pretty lips as he mulls over the idea of fucking into a hot, willing body, but despite the simmering arousal in his gut, tonight it doesn’t appeal to him.

“You go on ahead Molly” he says evenly, shaking his head slightly with a half-formed grin.

“Suit yourself” Molly grins, swooping in to kiss Fjord on the cheek before getting up and tumbling into the two giggling half-elves who pull him happily towards the stairs.

Fjord drains his glass, watching him go. The alcohol had failed to dull the mystery sensations that are gently caressing along his thighs now, if anything they’re stronger, kneading gently at his tired muscles. They feel good, is the thing, even if they are strange and possibly sinister, and Fjord doesn't know what to make of it, only knows he is desperately on edge.  
He feels something lithe and slick brush along his lips, and promptly Fjord decides he can’t stay anymore. 

 

He feels tender and shivery as he hurries to his room, glad Molly has found something to occupy himself with for the evening. Suddenly Fjord’s armor is suffocating on his over sensitive skin and he begins to unbuckle it frantically, stripping until he is just in his tunic and breeches. He feels desperate for something he can’t articulate and, suddenly weak, he collapses on the bed. 

“Please,” he says to the touches roaming his body, “What would you have of me?”

“ _ALL _” replies the deep, sonorous voice of his patron.__

____

The voice is inside his head, the voice from his dreams, and it echoes deep in his core. He needs that voice. To be closer to her. To please her. He needs it as desperately as he needs air. 

"Yes" Fjord whispers, not knowing what he is agreeing to but hungry for it all the same "Have me". 

The fluttery, anxious need he’s been feeling all evening calms almost instantly as he feels the strong, sinuous tentacles from his dreams curl around him, cooling his overheated skin. Two of them slowly coil around his forearms and press them gently down into the mattress, and Fjord trembles a little at the unfathomable strength behind the movement. 

Fjord cranes his neck to look at his pinned wrists, but the force holding him down is visible only in his mind's eye. He imagines what it would look like if Molly were to come in unexpectedly and see Fjord, pinned and ravaged by an invisible force. Fjord’s cock gives a needy little twitch and he groans brokenly, shutting his eyes and focusing on the feeling of the many limbs twined around his own.

Then Fjord is distracted as another of the tentacles begins to slither along his collar bones and down, underneath his the loose neck of his tunic. A flash of nervous, eager excitement flares in his chest as the tentacle skims along his flesh. The sensations are so real now, so present, and Fjord is entirely at the mercy of his Patron.  
More tentacles join the first, exploring the expanse of his chest and torso before pushing the shirt up and over his head to pool along his wrists where he is held fast. His trousers are pulled down swiftly after and Fjord is finally laid bare.

It feels inevitable, and Fjord finds himself hard and leaking against his stomach, eager for the powerlessness he has laid himself open for.

Something presses against his lips, and he opens them slowly but willingly, and relief floods through him as a tentacle gently fills his mouth, stroking softly against his tongue.

“ _CONSUME _” echoes the voice in his head, and Fjord struggles to groan out his agreement through his filled mouth.__

____

He feels right, complete, and he sucks gently on the appendage in his mouth, moaning softly. He wants more. Fjord feels raw, broken open, and he wants more than anything to feel complete. A desperate need to be filled has overcome him, and the room has faded away completely. 

Another tentacle is cradling his jaw as the one in his mouth presses in further, nudging his jaw open. Distantly he notices that the tentacle is leaking something sweet into his mouth, and he strains to swallow around it, wanting to prove he can take it, can take more. 

There are others now, flowing around his body and looping around his thick thighs, spreading him open. 

“Please, more-" Fjord pants brokenly when the tentacle withdraws from his mouth. “Please, I can take it”  
“ _PATIENCE _” whispers the voice in his mind.__

____

Fjord feels two thick cords of muscle wrap around the creases of his hips and down his thighs, parting his legs and holding him spread open and immobile. His cock gives another weak spurt of precome at the feeling of being moved so easily, as if he was delicate like Caleb, or small like Molly, and Fjord has to hide his face in the crook of his arm, overwhelmed by the feeling of being held so close and so tenderly.

Fjord has had sex before but this feels like something so far past that. He can feel her questing tentacles curling over his nipples and kneading happily at the soft flesh of his stomach as the thin, slick tendril moves from his swollen lips and down his abdomen to trail so, so gently along his straining cock. 

The touch is foreign, cool and slippery as the tentacle inspects its prize. It trails along the head of his cock, briefly dipping into the slit and punching a sharp gasp out of Fjord, who had never considered being penetrated that way before but suddenly finds himself aching for it. 

His patron has other ideas though, as the slim tentacle playing with his slit is joined by another that curls itself around his cock and squeezes, giving Fjord the first real friction he's had all day. 

The sound he makes is broken and needy as he tries to buck his hips into the tentacle’s tight hold and finds himself pinned helplessly, held fast by the powerful coils that wrap along his hips and down his thighs. He groans low in his throat, relishing his helplessness even as a deep ache throbs hot in his gut.

Then the coil around his cock ripples, sending a wave of pleasure crashing through him as he screws his eyes shut and gasps, no longer caring if anyone can hear him. 

He feels another arm pet soothingly at his hair and it feels like such a normal, intimate gesture in this sea of strange that it makes his head spin. 

The slim tentacle meanwhile quests still further down, pressing lightly against his balls before nudging gently at his exposed hole. 

She holds him like that for what seems like ages, his hands pinned above him and his legs spread wide and exposed as the mass of tentacles roam his body, tweaking at his nipples and playing with his throbbing cock, all the while the same slim tentacle teases his hole, pressing against it and skimming over the sensitive flesh but never fully penetrating him.

“Please” Fjord begs again, the want making his voice tremble, “I can take it I promise.”

“ _Delicate _” murmurs the voice again and Fjord keens, feeling close to tears in his desperation to be filled.__

____

“My mouth then” he begs, and a tentacle, bigger this time, obligingly pushes once again through his swollen lips to fill his mouth and stroke over his tongue. 

Fjord breathes through his nose and hums happily and for a few moments, his whole world narrows to the feeling of her filling his mouth.

He snaps out of it at the feeling of her finally, finally, pushing into his ass, and he nearly whites out. Only the sudden unyielding tightening of the tentacle at the base of his cock keeps him from coming then and there. 

Once she starts the slow slick slide into him she does not stop. She pushes into him further, the slick that coats her many arms making it an easy slide. It's so unlike a cock or his own fingers, slick and throbbing slightly as it presses into him, slowly but unrelentingly, inch by inch until he feels fuller than he's ever been and still she does not stop. He doesn't want her to. He's moaning and shaking now but he doesn't care, nothing matters anymore except the tentacle slowly working its way inside him.

"Please" Fjord begs her silently, as the tentacle begins to writhe and pulse inside him "Please I need more."

His patron is all around him now, flowing over his pecs and nipples, squeezing and wriggling along his cock. The tentacle in his mouth withdraws, smearing spit across his cheek and is replaced instantly with another, thicker this time, and his jaw stretches slightly to take it as it prods the pocket of his cheek, traces his hard palate and then, slow and sure, slips into his throat.  
Absently Fjord realizes there are tears leaking down his cheeks but he doesn’t care, he still wants more. The ache in his gut is still burning and needy. The tentacle filling his throat withdraws slightly to fuck into his mouth in aborted little movements.

Two more of the legs have slipped inside him now, along with that first slim tentacle, and they curl and throb against his prostate in an unrelenting rhythm that has Fjord weeping gently as he's fucked. 

One tiny appendage wipes his eyes gently and Fjord nuzzles into her, and she strokes his cheek like a lover, even as the powerful tentacles around his hips and waist grind pin him helpless to the bed while she ravages him. 

She holds him so close, cradling him like something precious while he writhes and shakes in her grasp.  
His patron still does not seem satisfied, however, because a fourth tentacle plunges deep into him alongside the others, and the throbbing mass inside of him picks up the pace, plunging in and out of him and soaking the sheets where he lays with slick and precome. There are 2 tentacles rubbing relentlessly against his taint, pressing hard against his prostate from all angles. Fjords cock is flushed and dark, jutting up from his stomach as it weeps a steady thin trail of come.

" _ARE YOU READY TO RECEIVE ME _" she asks after what has felt like an eternity, spread out and used, consumed consecrated.  
"Yes" Fjord sobs in his mind. __

____

____

Finally, the tentacle wound vice-like around the base of Fjord’s abused cock slackens, and a wave of pleasure overwhelms him, the sensation screaming through every nerve in his body as that last floodgate is released, and he comes with a choked cry.

“ _Submit _” she intones__  
“Yes” he weeps "Yesyesyes-"  
“ _S u r r e n d e r _”__  
“Have me” Fjord thinks desperately as she fucks him through his orgasm until he is gasping, oversensitive and impossibly still coming.  
“Use me, take me- ahh!”

_____ _

_____ _

He feels one of the tentacles pulse at the base, the ones in his mouth retracting, going to support his shoulders and head, stroking his cheeks and belly, letting him groan and writhe and beg as she starts to fill him to the brim, to overflowing.

He feels flooded, forgets to breathe. He wants to take all of it, wants her to fill him, to possess him, to never be alone.  
And then he comes for a third time and whites out.

An unknowable amount of time later Fjord comes back to himself, alone in his room, and he wonders for an instant if it had all been a dream, before the damp, sticky slide of the sheets against his back make him notice that both he and the bed are covered in pearlescent come and drenched in seawater.

It’s milky and iridescent, and he stares at it in a daze for a long moment before scooping up as much as he can with reverent, shaking fingers and swallowing it down, licking it desperately off his fingers until he finally fills sated. 

Fjord collapses onto the bed, feeling bone tired and pliant.

" _Sleep little one _," says the voice in the back of his mind, and he sinks into deep, contented darkness.__

**Author's Note:**

> deleted scene: molly opens the door to their shared room, looks around, goes to sleep w/ yasha
> 
> molly: damn where can i get a companion to leave me like that  
> yasha: thats nasty molls  
> molly: [sighs dreamily] yeah
> 
> Im ohgodsabove on tumblr come say hi


End file.
